When I order a cup of tea in Costa, the barista says: ‘Perfect!’ I ask for tap water in a restaurant: ‘Perfect!’ I buy a card in Paperchase and at the till it’s: ‘Perfect!’ And: ‘Perfect!’ again as I put in my PIN. ‘Perfect!’ when I say I don’t need a bag. It used to be ‘Great!’ and even that was too ecstatic a response to a side-order of creamed spinach. Now, there’s been a service industry upgrade. No longer is the customer always right; they are perfect. A little thing, yes, but a symptom of a wider mania for perfection. Everything from breakfast muesli to career, home and family must be perfect. Perfect interiors. The perfect diet. A perfect body. Pretty, perky, perfect children in pressed pinafores and collared shirts.
It is driven in part by magazines — ‘Perfect profiteroles!’ ‘Perfect bikinis for every figure!’ — in part by social media.
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